


Essence

by VR_Trakowski



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VR_Trakowski/pseuds/VR_Trakowski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scent of hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The characters and situations in this story belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and other entities, and I do not have permission to borrow them. No infringement is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit.  Any errors are mine, all mine, no you can't have any.  
> 
> Still new to this fandom; still assuming that it's all been done already.  Any unoriginality is accidental.  
> 
> Cincoflex kept her patience, cheered me on, and wrote the gorgeous "Impedo Gravida", which inspired this story.  Bless her for putting up with my bumbling late entrance to more than one fandom.  She also created the gorgeous banner! 
> 
> Trialia Britpicked and edited meticulously despite going through some very rough times.  I appreciate her dedication very much!  
> 
> Occasionally, I ignored them.  As stated above, any errors are mine.  

 

"Drat." Lily stared down at the folds of wrapping paper in her lap, nose wrinkling.

Severus leaned forward a bit to peer at the revealed object, but he couldn't quite make it out. "Did your aunt send peppermints again?"

"No." Lily lifted a small glass bottle from the paper, grimacing. "It's more lily perfume."

Severus blinked. "And the problem is…?"

"It's always lilies." She waved the bottle. "Just because it's my name, people always give me lilies. Perfume, stationery, jewellery—calendars, you remember that hideous one last year—"

"Unfortunately." Severus smothered a nascent grin. Lily had stood it until halfway through April, and then her grandmother's gift had gone up in literal smoke.

He settled his shoulders more comfortably against the stones of the wall, and watched Lily rant. She was beautiful at any time, but she was especially alluring when she was riled, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with irritation. It was at those moments he wanted most to kiss her; to feel her little gasp of surprise, her heated skin beneath his fingertips, her annoyance melting into—he prayed—eager willingness—

Severus shut the thought off deliberately. These stolen moments before breakfast were too precious to risk, all the more so when the only thing that kept them private was the fact that no one had thought to seek them out in an empty classroom.

"—And—I'm sick of the smell of lilies!" she finished, drawing back her arm. Severus reached out just in time to intercept it, her fist smacking into his palm.

"Then I would advise not hurling it across the room," he said calmly, though his fingers curled around her wrist without his conscious permission. "The scent will linger for weeks."

Lily scrunched up her nose again with a smirk, shook her hand free of his, and tossed the bottle straight up. With a flourish, she pointed her wand. _"Evanesco._ Dear Great-auntie Orc, I enjoyed your gift _so_ much…it was _so_ useful."

Severus snorted as the bottle vanished mid-air. "As target practice. Great-Auntie _Orc_?"

"Orchid," Lily sighed. "She looks like one, too."

"An orc?" He was having trouble with the image.

"No, an orchid. Tiny and fragile and sort of strange. And spotty." Lily screwed the paper into a ball and vanished that as well. "Stupid naming tradition…a plague on that house…"

Severus had heard _that_ rant before. "I take it your sister receives better gifts."

Lily giggled, a sound that always made his stomach somersault. "Worse, actually. It's usually embroidered handkerchiefs or more stationery. Half the time the flower in question isn't even really a petunia."

Severus nodded, grateful that his gift to her had nothing of the lily about it. A narrow escape; he'd lingered for some time over a delicately beautiful silver pendant before deciding, reluctantly, that a gift of jewellery at this point might be too forward.

He wanted her, more than anything. But he couldn't risk losing her friendship.

Lily moved on to the other packages she'd found piled on her bed that morning—dormitory delivery being reserved for Christmas and birthdays—and he watched with distracted interest. Her parents had sent her books, her sister stationery, though with kittens instead of blossoms. Gifts from other relations bore out her complaint: two different kinds of bath salts, a rather cheap enamelled pin, and a tiny figurine, though he thought the tiny glass frog on a green glass lily pad was at least marginally clever.

One last parcel was bigger than the rest, and Lily opened the card and huffed, brows drawing together. "What is it?" Severus asked.

"It's from James Potter," she replied, and he felt his jaw clench in anger. What right had that sod to be sending her presents?

"If you'd rather, I can get rid of it for you," he offered smoothly.

Lily shot him a dry, teasing glance. "I don't need a knight to protect me. Not from _him._ "

Severus held his tongue as she unwrapped the gift, knowing that she was perfectly capable of hexing Potter into next month if she chose, wondering if she would ever need protection when Severus was around, and desperately pleased at the hint that she might consider him a knight of any stripe. All the emotions, however, coalesced into irritation as the box of chocolates was revealed—and Lily's face went from impatience to softened surprise.

"Ooh," she said, pulling off the lid. "Oh, _nice._ "

The smell was delectable. Lily reached for one of the confections, but Severus grabbed her elbow. "Wait."

"I'll share," she said impatiently, but he shook his head and lifted his wand.

"You should check them first," he said, and did just that, looking for both hexes and evidence of any adulteration. He didn't put it past the slavering fool to have laced the chocolate with a lust philtre.

"Oh, come on, Sev," Lily said, frowning. "He's an arse, but I don't—"

"I'm thinking more of Black," Severus replied, who wasn't. "Pulling a prank on both you and Potter seems just his style."

Actually, he was fairly certain that the insufferable Black lusted after Lily as well, but wasn't willing to twist his family's tail quite enough to take up with a Muggleborn. But Lily didn't need to know that.

"They're clean," he said when the spells revealed nothing, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

"Could have told you that," Lily said, and popped her chosen bonbon into her mouth whole, biting down with a look of bliss. She extended the box in his direction, but Severus shook his head, feeling his sulky expression emerge but unable to help it.

Lily rolled her eyes and put the lid on the box. "I'll have to hide it or my mates will leave nothing but crumbs."

The breakfast bell spoke with a low toll, and they both scrambled up, Lily sweeping the bath salts and the stationery into a heap and vanishing it before gathering up her other gifts. Severus handed her the last book and realised that they were standing almost toe-to-toe—as close as they had often been as children, before their bodies woke to more adult possibilities.

She smelled of wool and shampoo and her own warm skin, and Severus couldn't help leaning a bit closer. "You're right," he murmured. "Lily is entirely the wrong scent for you, it's far too sweet."

A flush touched her cheekbones. "Are you calling me sour?" she asked, teasing and—if he dared hope—a little breathless.

"Not at all." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, analysing the faint fragrance rising from her skin, letting the instincts that made him so good at Potions come into play. "You need something deeper, darker…something almost herbal, perhaps, with a touch of musk. Something wilder." And not without sweetness, he thought, but never the metallic whisper of lilies or even the predictable, over-worn rose...

"Sev—" Her voice was a little choked, and he opened his eyes to discover that he was looming over her, possible now that he'd finally caught up to her height and surpassed it. Her pupils were dilated and she looked almost alarmed. Her scent deepened, stirring something at the back of his brain, but he stepped back hastily.

"Lily, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

She stared at him a second longer, then shook herself. "You didn't, silly. Come on, let's go before all the sausages are gone."

Severus followed her out, her fragrance lingering in his nose, and was suddenly caught up in an _idea_.

* * *

It was rather nice to have her birthday on a Friday, Lily thought as she shoved in amongst her mates at the Gryffindor breakfast table. It meant compliments from Professors Flitwick and Slughorn in class that day, and the pleasant anticipation of being taken out to tea at Hogsmeade by her friends tomorrow.

There would be more gifts, too, mostly little things and no doubt some as stupid as those she'd got from her relations, but like anyone else Lily enjoyed receiving them. She filled her plate with toast and sausage and stewed fruit, listening to the chatter about the weather (snowy), classes (difficult), and the odds of Peeves goading Filch into bellows by Sunday (two to one against) and letting it all flow past her.

It had been important to her to spend the first moments of the day with Sev; it was something of a ritual, now, and she treasured those quiet times, even if they did no more than argue gently about the latest Transfiguration assignment. Ever since Avery and Mulciber had gotten expelled for what was now referred to as the MacDonald Incident, he'd pulled back from what she'd considered to be a very dark path, and it was a relief.

Slytherin or not, he was her best friend, and had been since before the Sorting Hat had split them up. He was important.

And he hadn't scared her. Well, not _really_. It had just been a little... _intense_ , him being so close like that, close enough that she could smell the bitter-mint he used and feel his breath stirring her hair...

The goosebumps returned, and Lily shook her head impatiently. Sev needed looking after, whether he would admit it or not, and making sure he was part of her birthday was part of that, since he would have no place in any noisy Gryffindor celebration. Nor would he want one, she admitted silently; Sev was for quiet times, reading together and studying and just talking or being silent, not shrieks of laughter and loud teasing and the other joys of being a Gryffindor.

She'd taken him out to tea herself, since his birthday was during hols, and that had been a pleasure all its own—he'd been staying with the Malfoys over Christmas, but they'd met in London for the day and it had been so much fun. Lily always made a point of his birthday, partly because it was so soon after Christmas, but partly because no one else did nor ever had, and it made her throat ache just to think about. She'd found him a lovely old volume of _A Phoenix Too Frequent_ as a gift, and he'd—

 _Oh._ Lily blinked. Sev had given her no gift today. And he always had, from the day she invited him to her Muggle tenth-birthday party and he'd shoved a clumsy package in her hand and run away without so much as a refusal. She still had the tiny wooden unicorn at home somewhere; but this year—she wasn't greedy, but it wasn't hard to feel hurt.

But when she glanced across the tables at him, seated a little apart even from members of his own House, he was looking back, and she caught his tiny smirk even at that distance. He cocked a brow and patted his pocket.

Lily dropped her hand to the matching pocket in her own robes, and felt the hard rectangle of something within. _Oh, that sneaky—_ Her laughing glare had his smirk widening, and then the dishes vanished and it was time to go to class.

She took a moment to duck into the loo on the way. Sev never used wrapping paper, just plain parchment, but his skills had improved over the years and the parchment was folded in such crisp, intricate lines that it required neither magic nor tape to stay in place.

It a little leather-bound book, scarcely larger than her palm, and untitled. Lily opened it curiously, and let another _oh_ leave her lips when she saw page after page of Potions recipes, copied out in Sev's clean, crowded script. Here was the first one they'd worked on together; the six they'd improved through clandestine experimentation; even the wit-sharpener that he kept so very secret and that she _knew_ he planned to patent after they left Hogwarts.

The many recipes took up two-thirds of the book; the rest of its pages were blank, waiting patiently for more notations. Lily smiled down at them, touched at his thoughtfulness and trust. _He always gives me the best gifts._

She would have to hug him extra hard for this one.

* * *

Having an idea and carrying it out were two different things, but Severus knew that already. Fortunately, he had a year—or most of one, if he chose to make it a Christmas gift instead, but at this end of things the difference was negligible.

Sixth-years, at least those in Slughorn's good graces, were free to pursue independent Potions projects if they so desired, subject of course to their professor's supervision and limited by their own budgets. The former was not a problem; Severus knew Slughorn admired his skill almost as much as the man admired Lily's, and was a known romantic besides. Permission was as good as given.

Ingredients were more problematic. Severus knew he would be making multiple iterations of his experiment, and his pocket money was scant. Most of it came from selling his skill as a brewer to other students, and while what Lily teasingly called his parsimony had allowed Severus to lay by a decent sum, it could be depleted quickly if he was careless.

 _So I won't be._ The idea had set his mind alight. To create a perfume, the _perfect_ perfume, for Lily…to match her natural scent and brilliant personality with a fragrance that enhanced them both…it would be a masterful gift, one that no other could duplicate.

Certainly not James Potter.

 _Cinnamon,_ he thought. _Or perhaps caramel, burnt sugar…_

Severus sat in the dimness of his bed curtains and scribbled notes on a spare sheet of parchment. He'd need a base, fixatives, various aromatics to try; some of them he could coax from Professor Sprout, but others would need to be purchased. It was a good thing he had an excellent memory for odours, because he didn't think Lily would appreciate him walking up just to smell her—much as he would like to.

_Besides, that might give the game away._

Severus frowned. _How am I going to test this?_

He knew enough Potions theory now to understand that the more complicated a concoction, the more effect an individual's difference had on its performance. That was the reason for the market in customised potions and one he intended to take advantage of in the future, but for this project it presented a difficulty. If he wanted to keep his gift a secret, he could hardly ask Lily to try out his experiments.

Absently Severus stroked his quill along his jaw as he thought, feeling it catch on a hint of stubble and reminding himself to use his beard-inhibiting lotion that evening. Most of the others his age used charms, but he preferred the bitter-mint salve he made himself—it lasted longer, for one thing.

 _If I can't test the perfume on Lily, I'll have to find a substitute._ He frowned again, staring into space. Asking another girl was out of the question, and useless besides; scents were highly personal, and no one else was going to smell like her, or interact the same way with his efforts. _I need to mimic her somehow._

The solution formed slowly, and Severus hesitated over it for a long time. Copying a bit of Lily was not only complicated, it bordered on Dark magic. _But I don't intend harm,_ he told himself. _And it won't be very much, just enough to smell._

But then he grimaced, and drew a line through the note. _I promised._ She'd _made_ him promise, that he wouldn't use Dark magic, except to defend himself and only in the direst of emergencies. He'd argued her into the clause, but _she'd_ never been the target of sods like Potter and Black…or his own father.

There was one other option, though the idea heated his face to a ferocious blush in his curtained twilight. _But it's not Dark magic._

And it wouldn't be that hard to do. Some of the ingredients were expensive, but one batch would provide for two cycles, and time to brew didn't present a problem…

Severus wrote down the last steps, then cast a charm to scramble the letters, as he did with all his notes. No one would look at it twice. Then he pushed aside his bed-curtains and got ready for the trip to Hogsmeade. He had supplies to buy. 


	2. Chapter 2

"Of course, my boy, of course." Professor Slughorn beamed genially at Severus. "I can always find space in the lab timetable for a talented lad like yourself."

"Thank you, sir," Severus replied, glancing at the door to the Potions classroom to make sure it was still closed. He'd cast one of his own muffling charms to make sure they weren't overheard—Slughorn's idea of a discreet volume wasn't—but someone could still come in.

"Delightful idea really, a scent for your young lady," Slughorn went on, leaning back in his chair behind the wide desk. "May we know the name of this paragon?"

Severus felt his cheeks reddening even as he damned his own pale complexion. "Er…not yet…"

Slughorn chuckled. "Young love! Very well, very well. But do bring her by when your gift has won her, so that I can verify your success." His eyes were twinkling as brightly as Dumbledore's, and while the Potions master liked to play the fool, Severus suspected that the old man knew exactly who Severus had in mind.

He heaved to his feet, gathering up the parchments littering his desk. "Come to my rooms after supper and we'll sort out the timetable." With a nod, he left the classroom, the high-ceilinged place seeming much quieter in his absence.

Severus blew out a breath and cancelled the muffling charm, then reached into his pocket for the bag there. It was a simple matter to open the top desk drawer and leave the small, appreciative gift of sweets; Slytherins understood such things.

* * *

Obtaining the necessary ingredients for his test was simple as well; it was easy to snag a shed hair from the back of Lily's robes. Finding a safe and private place to run his tests was a little trickier, but eventually Severus swapped two bottles of his personal wit-sharpener for the password to the prefects' bath, and a little observation told him when it was most likely to be unoccupied.

Turning himself into Lily Evans was an extraordinary experience.

It wasn't the first time he'd used Polyjuice. Slughorn usually reserved such potions for the seventh-year N.E.W.T. students, but Severus was ahead of the curriculum and Slughorn had allowed him to sit in on some of the lectures. For an hour, he'd been ensconced in the form of Gorgo Trilby, a hulking Ravenclaw whose size belied a surprising dexterity, but while having the musculature of a small bull elephant had been an interesting change, Trilby was still male.

The transformation itself was never pleasant, but seeing Severus' own ugly features gone, replaced by her vibrant, beloved beauty, felt like a blessing and a desecration both at once. Being shorter didn't bother him; being female was _strange_.

He hardly dared think about it the first time. After wasting several minutes staring at himself in the mirror, Severus forced himself to start his tests, carefully applying a few drops of each experimental perfume to the soft skin of her—his—inner wrist, and inhaling the results. Sometimes he washed it off at once; sometimes he waited, letting the fragrance mingle with her own and judging how it changed and deepened.

None of those first efforts were what he wanted, but Severus had expected that. He took copious notes and preserved some of the scents for further study, his familiar script a little shaky when penned by Lily's smaller, shorter fingers.

The second time he changed, he spent less time staring at first, but his tests were finished before his hour was up. Inevitably he found himself back at the mirror, looking into the face that was Lily's and the bewildered eyes that were somehow his own behind the green.

Severus' back-brain whispered temptation to him, suggesting he undo the over-long robes and all the buttons underneath, and see what Lily _really_ looked like. But it was somehow distant. Severus might be curious, but he would never, never dishonour her so. He was borrowing her body for a noble purpose, or at least a benign one; to look it over like a voyeur would be a betrayal.

But he could lift those slender fingers to her velvety cheek, stroke a fingertip along her brows, her lips. It felt nice from within, but he was more interested in the feel of her skin under his touch. Her hands were warmer than his own, her hair springier; he ran his hands through it again and again, rubbing the strands so different from his, taking a strange wistful delight in being able to touch.

It wasn't something he did lightly. Lily's family was affectionate; she'd grown up with hugs and pats and all the thoughtful touches of a secure and loving childhood. In Severus' life, hugs were rare things, and most physical gestures were less than pleasant. He loved the way Lily would throw her arms around him when pleased or excited, but he'd never managed the knack of returning her casual affection with ease.

And now that they were older, touch came freighted with a whole other significance. Sometimes he was bold enough to touch Lily's hand or put his arm around her shoulders, but every time Severus was stiff with fear that she would think him too forward.

It didn't help that the whisper at the back of his mind always seemed insulted that she thought nothing of his touches.

He shook his head at her reflection and returned to his notes, unwilling to watch her face melt back into his own forbidding features.

* * *

He was up to something.

The signs were subtle, but Lily had known Sev for years. He never missed one of their pre-breakfast meet-ups or their scheduled study times, but when he did there was something hidden about him, a secret held back.

It would have worried her, except that it had nothing of that edge of guilt he'd borne during his dark times—just a suppressed hint of excitement. And he _was_ secretive, Lily knew that. She even understood. _The way his life has been, it's natural._ He'd had to hide what few good things came to him, lest they be stolen or broken.

She wasn't stupid enough to think she really knew what his home life had been like. But she'd grown up enough to see old memories in a new light, and to appreciate how lucky she and Petunia had been, in a household that was never perfect but _was_ safe and loving.

Lily glanced at Sev over the dinner tables. He was sitting next to Vulcan Everard, the two of them discussing something that probably had to do with hexes, to judge from the jabs of their hands and the wicked smirks. But Sev looked away just long enough to spot her, and while his face didn't change, his fingers fluttered in a salute that slid right past Vulcan's attention. Lily hid her own smile and touched her temple as if to brush back a strand of hair. They'd perfected the little signals years ago, slipping them through the inter-House rivalry and mistrust, their own private joke that went beyond Slytherin and Gryffindor.

The acknowledgment didn't keep her from feeling curious, though. Usually when Sev had a secret, a good one, he would either tell her about it or drop tantalising little hints. This time, there had been nothing.

Lily had to wait until Transfiguration that afternoon, when they were both leaning over their work and Professor McGonagall was busy on the other side of the room. Fortunately Lily had done her homework, and she turned the lizard into a piccolo into a basket into a cloud of moths without struggling, and wove a net of magic to keep the moths from escaping while she frowned at Sev. "What are you up to?"

He tapped his basket with his wand, showing off a little by turning it into moths _and_ a jar to hold them. "Transfiguration, at the present moment."

Lily snickered. "You know very well what I mean. You've got a secret, Sev, and I want to know what it is."

His innocent look would have fooled anyone but her. "I? Keep secrets from _you?_ "

She nudged him with an elbow. "Not for long, you won't."

Sev's lips twitched at the cheerful threat, but then he sobered, and glanced around. McGonagall was presently containing what appeared to be a swarm of bees emanating from the Smythe twins' table, and he turned back, lowering his voice. "You're right. I am. But, Lily—" He bit his lip. "I need to keep it a while longer."

She blinked at him. He'd never asked such a thing before, and a tiny pang of hurt struck her, but he was looking at her pleadingly, black eyes so _intense_ …

"Is it Dark?" she asked severely.

Sev shook his head quickly. " _No._ Of course not, Lily, I promised!"

She felt her face flush, and touched his arm. "I know. I'm sorry. Sev, of course, it's _your_ secret. If it's important, I shan't pester."

He nodded, mollified, though she could tell he was a little hurt too. Lily squeezed his arm and turned back to her moths, sorry for questioning him. _He keeps his promises. You know that._

And yet, she couldn't help worrying.

The two of them finished the exercise, moths becoming candles and then lizards once more, their hands and wands moving in unison—the sort of synchronisation they had always found with one another. And when the restored reptiles were blinking placidly atop the table, they exchanged satisfied looks, in harmony again.

The conversation lingered in her mind, though, as she sat working in the library that evening. Lily trusted Sev; though girl friends came and went, he was her best and closest friend. But those moments when he looked at her like that, all will and pleading…they made her shiver. _If he ever looks at another girl like that, she'll be mush._

Lily sighed at the thought. Sev was far too focused on school, and on getting away from his parents, to even think of girls. He'd never shown the slightest interest in any of their peers, except for the occasional disparaging remark. It was one of the things they were in agreement about, that such things could wait until school was over and their NEWTs past.

And he wasn't likely to find someone anyway, not at Hogwarts, Lily knew. It wasn't that she thought him ugly, the way some girls did. Certainly he wasn't handsome, not with his thin physique and that unfortunate nose, and he didn't help things by scowling all the time, but she knew how his eyes could light with enthusiasm and his mouth twist in wry humour. She saw the grace in his walk and the strength in his hands. And sometimes she was grateful that no one else seemed to, because if Sev fell in love, she would lose him, lose their special, precious friendship—

_Oh._

Was he in love? Was that it?

Lily froze, staring at the bookshelf opposite without seeing it at all. Her mind flipped rapidly over the list of possible girls, wondering dazedly just which one might have caught his eye. None of them seemed to fit. She tried to imagine him speaking gently to Serena Vane, for instance, or kissing Diana Kinsale, and the thought made her stomach clench.

 _What if she doesn't like him back?_ Under Sev's prickly exterior hid a very shy and tender soul, Lily knew that for a fact. He might never show it outwardly, but it would take a great deal for Sev to reveal his feelings to any girl, and rejection—

Rejection would just about _kill_ him.

Lily closed her mouth, chin going up at the thought of any careless female tossing Sev aside. _Whoever she is, she had better treat him well, or I'll hex her until she can't see straight._

She would have to wait until Sev was ready to tell her, just as she'd promised. Knowing him, it could be quite a while. _But that's what friends do._

Lily nodded decisively and went back to her essay.

It wasn't easy.

* * *

The thought returned to her later, when she was curled in one of the common room chairs, Charms text lying unread on her lap. For once it was fairly peaceful; there were only a few students in the room, and most of them were studying, though Lily could see that the ongoing game of Exploding Snap would eventually become quite loud.

But for the moment the noisiest thing in the room was the glowing hearth in front of her. Lily let her eyes follow the flames, and thought again about her suspicions.

If his house-mates teased Sev about his single state, he never mentioned it, she thought; but then, he wouldn't. Lily came in for plenty of chaffing herself, but she ignored most of it. She hadn't time for romance, really, any more than Sev had, and besides there was a shortage of males she considered suitable at Hogwarts. _Most of the boys are dreadfully immature. Not to mention obsessed with Quidditch!_ And while she enjoyed a good match as much as anyone, Lily wasn't interested in dissecting every move during or afterwards.

 _And if they're not obsessed with Quidditch, they're obsessed with sex._ She heard her girlfriends gossip about it all the time, if usually in veiled terms. Most of what Lily knew about the subject came from hearsay and books, but she had little actual experience.

It wasn't that she hadn't thought about it, of course. Didn't every girl? Being practical didn't mean she couldn't wonder, or speculate, or listen to her friends' stories of conquests and experiments.

In fact, she had a dream lover, someone she'd created just to try out a few of those ideas in her imagination. He was more sensation than sight, since Lily shied away from fixing him as an image; but he was taller than her, with gentle hands and a soft voice that never rose above a whisper. Sometimes he did wonderful, secret things to her; sometimes she did them to him; sometimes they shared intimacies that she would never have mentioned in the light of day, at least to anyone she knew.

It wasn't really satisfying as it was mostly in her head, but it was a good compromise, until she was ready to find a flesh-and-blood lover. _Because it seems to me it's something worth taking seriously, and right now I have neither the time nor the right partner._ Lily prided herself on her thoroughness when it came to learning new things, and she didn't plan to treat sex any differently.

* * *

The third time, he ran into a problem.

It was just two weeks before the end of term, and Severus had stolen a fresh hair from Lily the day before, but the moment the Polyjuice took effect he knew something was…wrong. Different.

Painful.

For a moment he thought it was illness, or that he'd got the potion wrong somehow, but the dull throbbing in his abdomen was too low to be an upset stomach. It took him a little while to reason out why he hurt.

It made sense, in retrospect; Polyjuice copied the current state of a given body, and a woman's cycle was part of that. But certainly old Slughorn had never mentioned such a…personal detail. In fact, Severus couldn't even imagine him doing so.

The pain and accompanying malaise weren't _too_ bad, and he decided to ignore them rather than risking a trip to his room for something to alleviate pain. But it was when he reapplied one of his earlier attempts that he realised there was another problem.

It smelled different.

Severus bit back a curse. _What did I do wrong? What changed?_

The perfume was uncontaminated, and it had been fine the first time he'd tried it. _Therefore, the difference is in…Lily._

_Idiot._

He _knew_ that the state of a person's body affected a potion's efficacy. That was basic second-year stuff. And the same would hold true for a perfume as well, but he hadn't even thought about it, he'd made an elementary, childish mistake.

Severus growled, and started going over his notes. _The real question is, do you want it to maintain one scent, or simply harmonise with Lily in all her aspects?_

By the time the Polyjuice wore off, Severus had written a ream of additional notes, modified his timetable, and even managed to test a few samples, more for the data than because he thought they would work. The sudden cessation of the pain in his abdomen and the ache behind his eyes was a sweet relief, and he sat back with a sigh.

_If that's what it feels like…no wonder she's irritable at times. I don't know how she manages._

He gathered up his notes and vials. _Perhaps I can come up with a soother for it…_


	3. Chapter 3

It felt very strange to watch the Hogwarts train pulling away from the station. Severus stood until it puffed out of sight, feeling the ache beneath his breastbone at the knowledge that Lily was aboard and drawing further away with each turn of the wheels, but the pain was tempered somewhat by her promise to meet him in two weeks for lunch, now that they could both Apparate legally.

The heavy hand descending on his shoulder made Severus start. "Always a bit strange, watchin' 'em leave the firs' time," Hagrid said heartily. "But they'll be back before you know it."

Severus looked up, nodding, and secretly grateful for the simple sympathy in Hagrid's face. The groundskeeper was indiscriminately friendly and non-judgmental, something of a relief to a Slytherin always looking for the hidden motive, and he looked after all the students with a dedication that Severus appreciated. Hagrid had never said a word about the matter, but Severus knew he'd deliberately interrupted more than one episode of bullying, including Potter's and Black's teaming up against on Severus.

"Now, back to the castle wi' you," Hagrid added. "It'll be lunch soon and then Professor Slughorn'll want you."

Severus nodded again and tried not to stumble at Hagrid's friendly shove.

The grounds were very quiet without the other students around, but Severus found he liked it. He knew it was foolishness, but for the space of the walk back to the castle, it felt like Hogwarts belonged to him alone. _This was a good idea._

The hardest part of securing a summer internship with Slughorn had been getting his father to sign the parchment. Slughorn was delighted to have a gifted assistant for the season, Headmaster Dumbledore had raised no objection, and Severus' mother had said nothing at all. He would spend the summer in the castle, working on his project and whatever tasks Slughorn set him, completely out of reach of his father's fists and his mother's tongue.

The only sour part was that he would be far from Lily.

 _It doesn't matter,_ he told himself. _You'll see her soon, and anyway they're going on holiday in Spain._ But he was used to summers where she was usually no further than the other end of town, and it felt strange to know she wasn't somewhere in the castle.

They would only have one more year together. If he didn't win her heart in the coming months, Severus knew he was likely to lose her when adulthood took them in different directions. _She wants to be an Auror, to go up against that madman who calls himself a Dark Lord._

And how could Severus protect her if he was not at her side?

Not to mention the possibility of her finding a lover…

He stifled a sigh and ran up the steps into the front hall.

* * *

It was a glorious summer. To Lily, everything seemed golden, from the sunny weather to the sand of the Spanish beach, to the harmony of her family in this, the last summer before she was an adult. Lily forbore to point out that she was one already in the wizarding world; to her parents, she was still their girl, with one more year of school to go, and she savoured the simple pleasures of it.

Even Petunia was bearable, flattered with the attentions of the handsome young men on the Ibiza beaches and exchanging long, daily letters with her various swains still home in England. Lily let her sister borrow her makeup and steal her second-best blouse, too pleased with their unexpected harmony to disturb it.

She did feel a pang for Sev, even though they'd met twice before the Evans family had left for the Continent; five weeks was a long time to not see him. _But he's busy with that internship,_ she told herself. _He was so happy to get it, and at least he's not at home._

And truthfully it was hard to imagine him in Spain; Sev might be half Muggle, but he would never have fit in among the scantily clad beach-goers, and it made Lily giggle to picture him there, with his dark school robes and disdainful frown.

 _Be accurate_. _He wouldn't wear the robes out in public._ But it still didn't fit; he always wore black and long sleeves, and he would have still been out of place, only the pale skin of his face and hands showing. _He'd probably roast in the sun._

She could imagine him at night, though, somehow, walking along the beach when it was deserted; stopping to examine some strange treasure thrown up by the tide, half shadow and half moonlight. It was an odd, tender picture, and Lily tucked it away, a little wistful that he could not be there, enjoying solitude with her.

It was the start of their third week on holiday that her sunbathing was interrupted first by a shadow falling across her, and then the sound of a body hitting the sand. "Hey, Evans!"

Lily tipped up the brim of her beach hat and glanced over, and felt her mouth drop open. "James Potter…what are you doing here?"

He grinned at her, arrogant and attractive and just the slightest bit mischievous. "Looking for you, of course."

Flattered and annoyed both at once, Lily sat up. "Be serious."

James' grin widened, and he leaned back on his elbows. "I am. I heard your family was dragging you here for hols, so I talked my dad into coming too. It's taken me almost a week to find you, though, bloody Muggle resorts…"

 _He…he came to Spain for me?_ She didn't know what to say.

He didn't let it stop him.

* * *

The rest of the holiday seemed to pass quickly, even more golden than before. Lily had despised James Potter and his friends for years, back to their first meeting on the Hogwarts Express when they'd been so mean to Sev, but over the last few terms they'd become marginally less objectionable—at least visibly. James had still taken every opportunity to flirt with her, even when she snubbed him, but aside from the box of chocolates for her birthday, he'd been leaving her alone for months.

Now James was by her side every time she turned around, it seemed, tall and handsome and charming. He was muscular enough to win a second glance from many girls on the beach, even Tuney, but he kept all his attention for Lily, flattering her outrageously and clowning to make her laugh. He bought her pop and ice-creams, swam and walked with her, and asked her out every day.

By the end of the week, she was thinking about saying _yes_.

He was dazzling, hazel eyes admiring her every time she met their gaze, black hair ruffling even when there was no breeze. She'd always found him attractive on some level—he was smart, energetic, vital—but his ego had always put her off, even outside of his ongoing feud with Sev.

But it seemed now that he'd learned to tame it, if his occasional bouts of self-deprecating humour were any indication. He was _fun._

Guiltily, Lily remembered her own resolve to leave such things as romance until after school. _But it's the hols,_ she told herself. _And he came all this way just to find me. What's the harm in a few weeks of flirting?_

Petunia, who was having a torrid if semi-chaste affair with an Ibiza boy, even condescended to approve of James and offer a few unsolicited tips on make-up and managing one's paramour. Lily took them in the spirit in which they were intended and laughed when she was alone.

It was a magic time, in the Muggle sense of the word. She'd never been courted before, and it was a delicious experience. James was wise, and didn't push her to do anything she didn't want to do; they did no more than hold hands.

Until the last night.

It was a Muggle resort, and magic was strictly illegal, and yet when Lily returned to her room after dinner a small paper bird fluttered in through her open window, landing on her dressing table with its wings outstretched. Lily pursed her lips, torn between flattery and annoyance, and picked it up to unfold and read.

 _Terrace, 11pm_ was all it said.

He was waiting when she slipped out of the dimly lit hotel, sitting on the low wall that overlooked the beach, one foot propped up and his arm resting on his knee. It showed off his profile, and Lily suspected him of doing it on purpose, but she was still amused.

She walked up to him silently, feeling the sea breeze catch at the skirt of her sundress; feeling deliciously adult. But she couldn't resist the admonition. "Ever hear of the word _please_ , Potter?"

James turned, moonlight reflecting off his glasses, his grin quick. "You're here, aren't you, Evans?"

She tilted her head in acknowledgement. He stood, the teasing look ebbing away to a warmer smile. "You look smashing."

Lily gave him a mock curtsey even while her cheeks heated. "Thank you."

"Well, if you're going to be formal—" James stuck out his arm, elbow crooked. "Would Madam care to have a stroll with me?"

In answer Lily slid her arm through his and let him guide her down to the sand.

The beach was a different place at night. Empty of people, it seemed another land, silvered with the moonlight and blotted with rock shadows. They walked slowly along the damp sand, and it was beautiful.

They talked quietly about school and what they expected for their seventh year; Lily had the fleeting thought that James had never met a silence he couldn't fill, but the topic was engaging and she knew she was hardly the quiet type herself.

As they neared the far end of the beach, Lily knew what James had in mind; the only question was whether she would permit it. It would be breaking her own rule…but she was curious, and he was sweet and handsome and interested.

_As long as he doesn't expect to go further…_

So when they swung to a stop at the pier that marked the edge of the resort's property, Lily looked up at James and let him pull her close, and with amused and slightly tremulous practicality lifted off his glasses so he could bend his neck and kiss her.

The touch of his lips shot a brief thrill through her belly, but the pang melted away into nothing but mild pleasantness. She let the kiss go on, resting her hands on his shoulders and trying not to be disappointed.

_I guess it takes practice._

* * *

If it had felt strange watching the Hogwarts Express leave, it felt doubly so to watch it steam back towards the castle. Severus leaned on the window ledge in the Owlery and braced himself for the rush of students that the train carried. And looked forward to seeing Lily again.

They'd had two more wonderful meetings that summer, once to see a play in London and once just to ramble around Bath, because he'd never been there and Lily insisted it was essential to visit once in one's life.

He'd offered to Floo to London and join Lily for the trip back, but she'd refused. _Sev, you_ _ **hate**_ _the train, being cooped up with everyone for so long. Stay at Hogwarts and I'll see you as soon as I get there._ She'd smiled at him, and he couldn't argue.

And every time they'd parted he'd wanted to kiss her, to draw her close and press his face into her hair, to feel her arms around his neck and her breath against his skin.

 _Not yet._ Was it cowardice? He wasn't sure. _You're running out of time,_ his mind told him; Lily always claimed she didn't have time for a boyfriend, but that could change at any moment, it wasn't as though she didn't have suitors. But she had no friend like him.

_Not yet…_

The train, now hidden by a hill, chuffed to a stop; Severus could just barely hear its engine puffing. Down below, he knew, the Thestrals were rustling their wings as they waited to pull the carriages, and a group of nervous firsties was gaping at Hagrid as he marshalled them kindly for their trip across the Black Lake.

And somewhere in the crowd of returning students, no doubt smiling, was Lily.

Severus pushed away from the sill and headed for the stairs, finding a smile on his own lips as he descended.

He got a squeal and a hug in the Great Hall amidst the swirl and chatter of students, and Severus hugged her back hard, feeling the wrongness that had persisted all summer dissolve at her touch. But all too quickly they had to separate, taking their places at their respective tables and waiting for the new blood to file in and quiver at the sight of the Sorting Hat.

Severus watched Lily across the rows, having long since perfected the art of spying unseen. Not that he cared whether she knew—of course she did—but he didn't care to be hassled by others either. Their friendship was no secret, but Severus preferred to keep private matters just that, private.

Her fair skin couldn't exactly tan, but a summer in the sun had given her a delicate ruddiness that suited her exquisitely, and her hair had lightened a few shades. She looked rested and energetic and joyful, and Severus basked in her happiness and in her nearness.

 _It will be Christmas._ His timetable had been too cautious; inspiration had struck in mid-August, and unexpectedly Severus had found the exact formula. Lily's perfume was ready, but it was to be a proper gift; he would wait until the holiday, no matter how impatient he was to see her face when she opened it.

No matter how eager he was to smell it on _her_ skin, instead of his magicked own.

And if she liked it, if she smiled, he would take the last step, and dare to touch her, to kiss her. A gift like that could hardly be anything but a declaration, anyway, could it? It would be his intentions, his hopes…his heart in a bottle.

The old story of the warlock who kept his heart in a casket crossed his mind, and Severus shoved it away. _This is different._

He sat through the Sorting and the feast, almost insensate to the noise and merriment around him, but never blind to the bright head two tables away.

* * *

Seventh-year classes were _brutal_.

The grumbling was traditional, but it was based on truth. Lily complained with the rest, ignoring the teachers who reminded them that the tests were referred to as Nastily Exhausting for a reason, and threw herself into study. It was hard to find time for anything else; she and Sev had to reduce their early-morning meetings to just three times a week, and their timetables precluded much studying together.

On one level, it frustrated her, because Sev still needed looking after no matter how he might deny it. On another, she was guiltily pleased, because—

—Because he hated James Potter, and with reason. But James seemed to be there every time she turned around, flirting and and teasing her lightly, and Lily just couldn't make up her mind as to whether she liked it or not. His persistence was annoying at times, but flattering too, and her friends were impressed—some were even envious.

He'd changed; he wasn't quite the careless, cruel schoolboy, though he was still just as arrogant and he still hung around with squirrelly Pettigrew and that intolerable sod Black. But now when she walked past he left them behind to join her, rather than trying to draw her in; and he had the grace, or perhaps it was the sense, to leave her alone when she was with Severus, though he still laughed at Sev's sneers in his direction.

Lily had to admit, it was nice to be courted with such determination, and by someone who had finally outgrown the stage where liking someone meant shoving them into a mud puddle. James was sincere. She knew just enough Legilimency to tell _that_.

She wasn't in love with him, especially given the thin slices of time he had to work with. But as autumn deepened into winter, Lily realised that she very easily _could_ be.

She just didn't know how to tell Sev.

Her mates would have told her it was none of his business, if she had ever discussed her friendship with them. She did not; they were all Gryffindors who thought she was mad to spend time with a surly, ugly prat of a Slytherin, though at least she'd trained them out of making disparaging comments. And they would have been wrong, anyway; it wasn't exactly his _business_ , but as her friend he had a right to know. She just couldn't figure out how to phrase it. _Oh, by the way, Sev, I'm sort of going out with one of the two people you hate almost as much as you hate your father._

He would see it as a betrayal, nothing less. And as unfair as that was, she understood why—she just couldn't think of any way to make it otherwise.

All in all, it was a good thing none of them had any time left over after studying. The term was speeding on towards December, and Lily told herself she had to tell Sev before they left for Christmas break.

_If only I can figure out how._


	4. Chapter 4

Severus pressed himself into the niche behind the statue of Ursulus the Untoward, his heart pounding at a volume that drowned out all other sound, his throat so knotted that he couldn't swallow. _Too late…too late…_

Rage and anguish were drowning him, and only instinct had hidden him in the statue's shadow, in hopes that no eyes would see him lose control.

_Too late—_

He'd _seen_ Potter sniffing around Lily, more than usual, and she'd smiled at him, but Severus had put it down to her running into the git on holiday. Two of the colourful postcards she'd sent Severus had mentioned seeing him, and that he'd behaved like a human being at least, and while they'd made Severus seethe there was nothing he could do about it. He'd never imagined that she would…would…

But the sight of Potter leaning into Lily where she stood against the corridor wall, leaning in for a _kiss_ , and she doing _nothing_ , not pushing him away, not even frowning—it felt like a knife in his gut, or his heart, and he'd had to flee.

Severus pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, hard enough to see sparks of light, and tried desperately to focus. Poison was right out, he was the obvious suspect, but perhaps a well-placed curse—

 _Stop it._ It was practically Lily's voice in his head. _You promised_.

Severus slumped against the stone, then let his knees give way and huddled into a ball on the floor. He _had_ promised, and he would not break faith with Lily, even if she had broken faith with him.

_Lily. My love, my friend, my only_ _**true** _ _friend—_

He tasted iron, and realised vaguely that he'd bitten his lips hard enough to bleed.

It was fortunate for Severus that it was a Friday. He had two whole days to wrestle himself under control, to bury his anguish and fury under a façade colder and harder than usual; to try to figure out how to face Lily come the new week without showing what he felt.

It was simple to manufacture a chore that Slughorn needed him to perform, and to send her a curt note to tell her that he would not be able to meet her for their usual weekend study session. He took himself to the North Tower after that, tucking himself behind a cracked crenellation and ignoring the icy wind. No one came up there in bad weather; most of the students didn't even know how to find the staircase. He was safe.

Severus spent all of Saturday, up until curfew, where no one could see or hear him. And if his lashes froze to his cheeks and his voice was roughened when he finally came down, there was no one to notice.

No one at all.

* * *

_Bugger._

It was not a word she generally spoke aloud, but Lily did occasionally use it in the privacy of her own mind, when appropriate. And given that Sev had bypassed their usual desk in Transfigurations and sat down all the way across the room, completely ignoring her as he stalked past, appropriate it was.

_How did he find out?_

She'd thought her…whatever…with James had been reasonably discreet, due to their sheer lack of opportunity if nothing else. But apparently not discreet enough. _Did someone say something?_

Lily managed to pay just enough attention in class to keep Professor McGonagall's frowns to a minimum, struggling between guilt and anger and a bit of hurt. The moment they were dismissed she rose, reaching for Sev's wrist as he headed for the door, but he dodged her smoothly and strode ahead, and by the time she got to the corridor he had vanished as neatly as if he'd Disapparated.

That set the pattern for the next few days. The only times she saw Sev were during classes they shared, and across the tables at mealtimes; and there were no more hidden signals to one another. She might have been air for all the attention he paid to her.

The longer it went on, the worse Lily felt. Guilt for not speaking sooner, anger at the way Sev was dodging her, hurt that he could turn away from her so completely; and beneath it was a strange sort of panic that she didn't understand. And frustration, because try as she might she simply couldn't corner him.

Finally she took a surreptitious peek at the book in which Slughorn kept his lab timetable; all the older students knew the password had been "sugar quill" for the last thirty years.

After that it was a simple matter to slip into the Potions lab when Sev was the only one scheduled to work there. Lily kept her steps light and cast a quick locking charm on the door; it was only an hour before curfew and she didn't expect anyone to come in, but better to be safe.

She lingered in the shadow of the door's arch, waiting until Sev finished stirring whatever he was working on and set aside the rod; Lily knew better than to interrupt anything delicate. When he stepped back from the workbench and lowered the flame with a tap of his wand, she moved forward.

Sev's head snapped up at the movement, and his face went from frowning concentration to icy blankness. Before he could speak, Lily held up her hands. "I'm sorry. Sev, I'm _sorry._ "

He glared at her, eyes dark-circled. "It doesn't matter."

The hard words _hurt_ , but Lily didn't flinch. "Yes it does." She walked closer. "I couldn't apologise sooner because you wouldn't let me get near you. Sev—"

"I don't want to hear it." He slashed one hand in a cutting gesture, and Lily realised sickly that she had never seen him like _this_ before. Not directed at her. "I don't want to talk to you at all."

She put her hands on her hips, anger mingling with guilt. "I know you don't like him, Severus Snape, but I have the right to talk to anyone I wish."

He flinched the slightest bit, but his mask didn't crack. "I never said you didn't."

Lily glared at him. "Are you saying I have to choose, then? James or you?"

He folded his arms, drawing himself up. "Haven't you chosen already?"

That hurt worse, a spike of pain through her middle. "That's stupid!"

"What's _stupid_ is my—my best friend not bothering to tell me she's snogging that animal." The words were bitter, and Lily winced, because he was right, mostly.

"He's not an animal and I'm—" She bit back the words and sighed. "You're right. I _should_ have told you, Sev, and I really am sorry, but I couldn't figure out how." She shook her head.

"You _have_ chosen." For an instant the mask slipped, and the pain she saw in his face took her breath.

"No—Sev, I—" But he whirled, wand out, and ripped through her locking charm before she could find words. Lily clenched her fists, fighting back tears, and sprang after him.

But the corridor was empty, and no matter where she looked she could not find him.

* * *

In the end, the day Christmas break began, he decided to give her the perfume.

He almost didn't; his gift of love had turned to ashes. But Lily was still Lily, still the brightest star he knew, and after all he had made it for her and for no one else. To waste it seemed…childish, somehow.

So Severus decanted the fragrant liquid into the little bottle he'd found in London, an old-fashioned cut-glass vial with a silver stopper; nothing rare, but unique, and possessed of a beauty that would complement her own. He wrapped it carefully in parchment and tied it with a silver ribbon he'd imprinted with her name in elegant script, then cast a protective charm on the package so it would neither break nor spill.

It would be a farewell gift, a silent goodbye, hidden amidst the abundance of Christmas. Not a blessing on her choice—never that—but an acknowledgment that what she had said was true. It was _her_ choice.

And then he would be finished. That casket was, perhaps, a better idea than he'd first thought.

It was a sign of his distraction that he let Potter get so close. Normally he would either have found a different route to the Owlery or had his wand ready, but the package in his hand seemed to weight his arm, and all he could think of was what her face might look like when she opened it—or if she would open it at all—

Potter was no longer taller than Severus, but his shoulders bulked broader, and he loomed up out of the shadows too quickly for Severus to lift his wand. "Oh, it's Snivellus," came the familiar voice, rich with scorn and a gloating menace. "Where are you sneaking off to?"

It was no good pointing out that he wasn't sneaking. Severus kept his voice arctic. "None of your business, Potter."

"It is if I want it to be." Potter fingered his Head Boy badge and leaned one shoulder against the wall. "I hear you're sulking because Evans finally saw the light."

Severus held very still, his spine rigid with fury at the careless way Potter spoke Lily's name. "It's of no matter to me."

"Slytherins." Potter shook his head in mock sadness. "You lie like you breathe. Too ashamed to admit I'm the better man, eh?"

"You may be many things. A man is not one of them," Severus retorted softly, feeling the shackles on his control loosen. He'd lost Lily already; what did it matter what he did now?

Potter's smirk edged into a frown. "I should take House points for that."

"But you won't," Severus taunted. "I heard what happened the last time McGonagall caught you docking points for…personal reasons."

Potter sneered. "There are other things I can take." His wand flicked, and the package soared out of Severus' grasp despite his grab. "What's this, then? Sending poisons by owl, Snivellus? That's certainly illegal."

"Give that back!" All his caution fled at the sight of the parcel now firmly in Potter's hand. Only the wand pointing at him kept him still.

"Now, now…it's the Head Boy's duty to investigate any contraband." Potter's smile was unpleasant as he pulled the ribbon free and shook the parchment away. It faltered slightly at the sight of the bottle.

"Give…it… _back,_ " Severus growled, infusing his voice with all the venom he could muster and wondering if he could move fast enough to duck Potter's hex.

"You meant this for Evans, didn't you?" Potter said, almost absently. "Pretty expensive gift for someone you don't even talk to any more."

Severus said nothing, just watched, every nerve drawn taut. Potter's attention was divided now, and Severus' hand had drifted closer to his wand, but any hex he flung now could make Potter lose his grip on the small vial. Severus cursed himself silently for setting the cushioning charm on the wrapping instead of the bottle.

"Well. She's my girl now, Snivellus, and I really can't have ugly greasy gits sending my girl inappropriate gifts, can I?" The smile was back, Potter's eyes gleaming with malicious pleasure behind his lenses. His arm lifted, cocking back, and Severus hissed, grabbing for his wand but knowing with a surge of despair that he was going to be too late.

The vial tumbled through the air, sparking back light from the torches, simultaneously slow and far too fast as it arced towards the unforgiving stone of the opposite wall. The flash of movement behind it took both of them by surprise.

The bottle smacked neatly into Lily's hand, mere inches from the stone. Severus gaped at her, too startled by her appearance to retreat. Opposite him, Potter flushed a dull red.

"I thought you'd changed," Lily said, her icy gaze fixed on Potter, and Severus shivered at the anger and pain in her voice. "You promised me you would never use that name again."

Some small part of Severus snarled in vindictive glee on hearing that Potter had broken his word to Lily; no matter what Severus might have done, he hadn't sunk that low. The rest of him was drowning in his own pain and humiliation.

"Lily—" Potter began, but she cut him off.

"You _promised_ me. You're supposed to be better than this, James. I thought you'd outgrown all the stupid petty bullying."

Potter drew himself up, gesturing angrily at the vial in her hand. "You're _my_ girl, Lily. This git was trying to send you a present, like he had any right—"

Lily's wand whipped outward in a non-verbal spell that cut Potter's words off entirely. "I belong to _no one,_ James Potter. Certainly not to you." Her voice was cold. "I told you that what is between me and Severus is none of your business; he is my friend."

Her _is_ cut Severus to the bone, though he dared not show it. He watched as she stalked closer to Potter, whose tongue was paralysed, to judge from his choking noise. Lily was half a head shorter, but Potter seemed to shrink as she neared, and he leaned backwards when her wand centred on his chest. "You betrayed my trust," she said quietly, her voice as hard as the stone around them. "You are never to speak to me again, do you understand?"

Potter's jaw tightened, but whatever Lily saw in his face seemed to satisfy her, for she stepped back. She held Potter's gaze for a moment longer, long enough for him to drop his head and walk away, and she and Severus both watched as he rounded the corner of the hall and disappeared.

When Severus looked back to Lily, she was bending to pick up the discarded ribbon and parchment, and he felt the blood leave his face. She was free of Potter, but their broken friendship still lay like a field of shattered glass between them.

Suddenly, watching her open the bottle was more than he could even bear to think about.

"He won't accept that, you know," Severus said, his voice tight.

"That's his problem." Lily shrugged disdainfully, then looked up, catching his gaze. Her eyes were wide and dark and vulnerable. "Sev…"

He shook his head, unable to find words, and fled once again.

* * *

Lily spent the last few days before Christmas thinking, amidst all the rush of holiday preparations—shopping, baking, decorating. She felt lost, bereft even; it was the first time in eight years that she hadn't had the reassuring solidity of Sev's friendship.

_How did it all go so wrong?_

_She'd_ been wrong, she knew, in not telling Sev from the beginning about James. But it had all happened so gradually…James was handsome, charming, very popular, and—she'd thought—beyond the petty cruelties of the past.

_Stupid. Leopards, spots._

Sev had taken it too hard, though. _He_ didn't own her either. And if she could keep the Gryffindor parts of her life separate from him, there was no reason why—

_Don't lie to yourself._

Lily sighed and leaned her forehead against her bedroom window, feeling it press cold against her skin. The short winter day was almost done, grey twilight drifting over the world, and Lily bit her lip against the sudden sting of tears.

_I do miss you, Sev._

All the memories tumbled forward, starting with the first inauspicious encounter on the train, through small pranks and cruelties on both sides, to the crowning event in their fifth year when James and Sirius had humiliated Sev in public. _And nearly killed him,_ Lily thought with residual anger; only her intervention had saved him from choking on their soapy spell. If he'd been able to speak, Lily thought Sev might have said something unforgivable, but the incident had resulted in one good thing—Professor McGonagall had taken notice, and the boys' malicious attentions had slacked off after. Or at least had become more subtle—

 _What was I doing, anyway?_ Lily frowned. She'd been so dazzled by James' attentions that she had forgotten all he'd done, or at least pushed it to the back of her mind. _Even if he had changed, it wasn't fair._

Here in the stillness she could acknowledge that it would never have worked, even if James had been true after all. The past was just too bitter. Sev carried grudges as if they were precious, though not without cause in this case, and Lily could see now that in the end a choice would have been demanded of her.

And would she have given Sev up? Could she have?

Could she have hurt him so, deliberately?

Lily touched the chilly glass with her fingertips, feeling the heat seep gradually out of her. _No._

Letting James court her had been exciting, flattering, _fun._ But she couldn't have given Sev up for it, not in the end.

_Which is why you put off telling him, idiot._

The tears came, then, hot on her cold cheeks. She'd been _stupid,_ and now her best friend was mad at her.

_Sev…_

The tears became sobs, because she didn't even know if he still _was_ her friend. And because just the prospect of losing him hurt far worse than James' betrayal.

She wept for a long time, until her chest hurt and all she wanted was sleep. But oblivion was a long time coming.


	5. Chapter 5

Christmas Day was grey and cold, but not snowy. It was too bad, Lily thought; a good fall of snow brightened their grimy city at least briefly. Without it, the day was just another dreary Sunday.

Tradition held in the Evans household. After a morning spent opening gifts and eating a leisurely brunch, her parents retired for a nap and Petunia left for a friend's party. Lily wrapped up warmly and went out for a ramble.

There weren't many people about; most were inside celebrating, she assumed, or away visiting relations. Lily wandered the narrow streets alone, occasionally casting a silent warming charm to keep her toes from freezing, and eventually found herself down by the polluted river, dodging the trash littering its banks.

She couldn't stop thinking about Sev. He'd spent the last two Christmases with the Malfoys, she knew, and there was no way she was going to knock on his parents' door, but forlorn hope finally had her balancing her wand on her palm and whispering the correct spell.

The length of wood rotated, pointing back beyond her left shoulder with an alacrity that told her the intervening distance was short. Lily frowned at it, because the direction was almost completely opposite the Snape home, and turned.

There was no one visible behind her, but she knew Sev. Glancing around to make sure that no one was within sight, Lily grasped her wand firmly and cast _Finite Incantatum._

Sev's dark form appeared some twenty feet away, huddled in his school cloak. Lily shook her head at him. "How long have you been following me?"

He didn't answer, or move. Lily let a silent sigh—half relief, half exasperation—escape her, and walked towards him, watching him watch her as she approached.

"If I were a Death Eater, you'd be dead or captured by now," he said as she reached him.

"And what would the Death Eaters want with a Muggle-born?" Lily reached out to lay a hand on Sev's arm, but he took a step back. "Sev—"

"You know as well as I do that they're increasing their activities." He wrapped his cloak tighter, becoming scarcely more than a pale face atop a shadowy shape.

"It's Christmas. If they've any sense, they're enjoying their mince pies and hot chocolate like everyone else." Lily tucked her hands into her own cloak. "I didn't know you were staying with your parents this year."

Sev's mouth tightened, but after a moment he spoke. "I'm not."

Her throat ached at the unspoken corollary—that his only reason for being there was to follow her. "Were you ever going to tell me you were there?"

Sev looked away, and shook his head.

Her patience broke, or perhaps it was her heart. Lily grabbed his shoulders, ignoring his hard flinch, and shook him, once. "Stop it, Sev! Stop doing this to me! To _yourself!_ "

"You want me to go?" he asked hoarsely, and Lily bit back a growl. Not stopping to argue herself out of it, she stepped forward, turned her grip on him into an embrace, and Disapparated.

It was the first time she'd ever done a Side-Along, and they both stumbled on landing, but fortunately the _pop_ wasn't too loud. Sev looked wildly around her tiny bedroom, automatically steadying her, and Lily was grateful for his support. "Drat. Sorry about that."

"I shouldn't be here," Sev said, letting her go and stepping hastily back.

"Nonsense. This isn't school," Lily retorted, stripping off her cloak and mittens and casting a muffling charm. The door was already locked; it was the only way to keep Petunia from snooping. "Mum and Dad won't care, and Tuney's out."

"Still." He was pulling in on himself, and Lily blew out a breath.

"Sev. _Please._ We need to talk." She plopped down on her narrow bed, pointing at the desk chair. "Or are you going to run away _again?_ "

Sev glared at her, but obeyed, removing his own cloak and draping it over the chair before sitting. His nose was red with cold and his fingers were white; automatically Lily took his hands in hers and chafed them gently. "I know you have gloves; why don't you ever wear them?"

He bent his head so that his hair hid his expression. "Lily…"

She laced her fingers into his, relaxing a little as he returned the clasp. "I am sorry for being so stupid," she told him softly, watching their hands. "The last thing I wanted to do was to hurt you."

His fingers flexed slightly. "You were right," he said, voice low. "You can…associate with anyone you please."

"That's true." She squeezed back. "But I should have seen that being with James would force me into a choice I didn't want to make. I was too flattered to pay attention, at first, and then…" She shrugged. "No excuses."

"You want me to forgive you?" The words were calm, level, and Lily felt her heart quail. _What if he can't?_

"Yes," she said, squeaking just a little.

Sev sighed, a long note, then shifted his grip, lifting both her hands to his face and pressing them against his cold cheeks. His eyes, when they met hers, were so vulnerable that her throat ached again. "Lily…I can deny you nothing."

For a moment, she felt as if she were hovering on the edge of something, some bit of knowledge that was just out of reach. Then the meaning of his words penetrated, and she let out a laugh that was half a sob and hugged him, hard.

They raided the kitchen for sandwiches and Christmas cake, since—as Lily suspected—Sev hadn't eaten all day. Mrs. Evans was just coming down after her nap as they carried their spoils back to Lily's room, and she merely smiled and wished Sev a happy Christmas as they passed. He flushed a little and returned an awkward greeting, and Lily hid a sad smile; her mother liked Sev, but he never knew quite how to deal with kindness.

"She'll be busy with tea and the telly for hours," Lily said as they spread out the food. "She and Dad always watch the Christmas special."

"I remember," Sev said, handing her a sandwich.

They ate peacefully, sharing the one bottle of butterbeer that Lily had smuggled home. She knew that Sev would be invited to stay for dinner as soon as they went back downstairs—Mrs. Evans' main reaction to any guest was to feed them—but teenage boys were pretty much always hungry in Lily's experience, and Sev more than most. He was always a bit too thin for comfort, though Hogwarts' steady meals had given him enough to grow on at least.

She couldn't stop watching him, though he didn't seem to notice, absorbed in his food. Almost losing him had sharpened her awareness somehow, and Lily kept watching his hands, clever and graceful, or the way his hair fell across his face.

He was such a contradiction. An enigma to most, she knew that, but the cold face he turned to the world warmed for her, and she knew the shy secrets of his heart, his dreams and goals. She knew his flaws too—impatience, arrogance, an uncomfortable fascination with power—but they were balanced by his carefully hidden kindness, his wry biting humour, the gentleness he had so little opportunity to display.

He trusted her, and that was a gift Lily never took lightly.

The food vanished amidst a rambling debate on whether it was possible to construct a time-travelling spell that didn't rely on an object to anchor it, and they kept talking, discussing what they'd learned in Defence class and in Transfiguration and whether the rumours regarding Madam Pince and the library ghost were true. Eventually, memory prodded, and Lily pushed up from her sprawl across her bed. "Oh! I forgot."

"Mm?" Sev had long since turned her desk chair around, and was straddling it, arms across its back and chin on his wrists.

"I was so upset—well, here." Lily leaned over to rummage in her satchel, withdrawing a red-and-green envelope and handing it to Sev. "Happy Christmas."

He took it, face blooming with the furtive pleasure a gift always brought, and opened it carefully, withdrawing the contents. Lily grinned as his eyes widened at the two tickets. Seats for _The Lady's Not for Burning_ were hard to come by, but she'd managed. "Lily—"

"No arguing," she said, pointing a finger at him. "You can take a date."

He rolled his eyes at that, smirking at her laugh. "As if I would see it with anyone but you."

"Well, the option's there."

Sev tucked the tickets away carefully in his cloak. "Thank you." He sobered as he looked back to her. "Did you open…?"

Lily bit her lip, hoping she wasn't about to hurt him again. "No. I—well, I wasn't sure."

"Where is it?" he asked, and she pointed to the bookshelf where she'd put the little bottle. She wasn't even sure what it contained.

Sev rose and picked it up, regarding it for a long moment as it lay in his palm. "Do you remember the discussion we had on your birthday?"

"Oh—it's perfume?" Lily blinked. "You made me _perfume?_ "

He nodded, still not looking up. She grinned. Sev's inventiveness was astonishing, and if he'd concocted something for her— "Oh, wonderful! Let me try it then, please?"

Sev lifted his head, cheeks flushed, and startled her by kneeling in front of her. "Allow me."

That strange intensity was back. Fascinated, Lily allowed him to uncap the bottle and take her hand, to shake out a tiny drop of liquid and smooth it across the tender skin of her wrist with his forefinger. The scent rose up, warm and enticing, and she breathed it in. It was _gorgeous,_ dark and rich and sweet without being cloying; it smelled like a herb garden at the height of summer, like caramel and coffee, like nothing she knew at all but something that was exactly right.

_How did he know?_

For an instant time seemed to halt, and Lily felt herself preserving the memory—the scent curling around them, the feel of Sev's fingers wrapped around her hand, the sight of him before her, bent over her wrist.

And then the knowledge was _there_ , falling into place and making her feel utterly foolish for not realising it before.

_Oh._

_Oh._

_Oh…_

She stretched out her free hand and touched his cheek, heard him pull in a breath as he raised his head. There it was, in his eyes, what he'd hidden and she had never let herself discover.

Lily leaned forward, drawing him up with her touch, and kissed her best friend, feeling joy unfolding from within as their lips met. Sev made a tiny sound, almost a cry, and his other hand sank into her hair, tugging her closer.

There was no hint of wrongness this time. The thrill was sharper, more vivid, and it shot through her in a tingle that didn't fade. Sev's mouth against hers was firm and gentle and somehow absolutely right. Somewhere deep inside, a voice was scolding her for not doing this _sooner,_ but Lily ignored it, sliding off the bed and into Sev's arms.

* * *

He was dreaming. Surely he was dreaming; how could this be real? How could he go from loss and misery to this utter, stunning ecstasy?

But it _was_ real. It was Lily's body pressed against his, her soft skin beneath his fingertips, her sweet warm mouth sending his mind spiralling dizzily out of control. It was his most fervent, secret desire suddenly come true, and it felt as though his heart was bursting. Severus pulled her closer, drowning in the taste of her; the perfume he'd created for her, that perfect scent, seemed to knit them together.

Lily purred and pulled back a fraction, but he couldn't stand the loss. Severus wasn't sure the _please_ made it out of his mouth before he was kissing her again, but the quiver of her laugh vibrated through him and she was just as eager as he.

Eventually they both needed to catch their breaths, though Severus felt jealous of every particle of air that passed her lips. Lily still held him tightly, cheeks and eyes brilliant, and to Severus it was incredible that his arm was around her waist and his other hand cradling the back of her head. Her hair was silky, warming his skin as it spilled over his wrist, and he thought wildly that he had never been happier—had never been happy at all, not like this.

Lily pressed her forehead to his, breathing deeply. "Ohhh…this, this is…"

"Yes," he agreed, and took another kiss, and another, some buried part of him terrified that it, that _she_ would be snatched away, but most of him delirious with bliss.

Her fingers brushed his cheek, warm and cool together, and it was only then that he noticed the tears. Before he had a chance to feel shame, Lily was kissing them away, a touch so tender that he had to bury his face in her hair and hold her more closely still.

She murmured something indistinct, hands caressing his spine, and he gasped in air and tried to relax his grip, but the perfume, his ruddy perfume was everywhere, bewitching him with the scent of Lily. _At least I got that right._ Because it _was_ her, down to the faintest note; the perfect complement to her vivid, captivating, mysterious self.

Lily's fingers wove gently into his hair, stroking to make him shiver. She coaxed his head up, and when Severus met her eyes the green was shimmering with a vulnerable delight. "You know what I'm most sorry for?"

At that moment he couldn't think of a thing she could possibly have done wrong. "What?" he managed, unable to look away.

"That I didn't let myself see this." Her lips brushed his in a petal-light kiss. "You've been so patient…" She laid another kiss on the tip of his nose, and Severus felt himself flush.

"Lily, no, I…I…" He couldn't find words. There was only one thing to say, and he gambled everything on it despite the tiny voice screaming caution. "I love you."

She didn't draw back, didn't frown; in fact, her smile deepened. "I know," she said, breath warm on his skin, and closed the tiny space between them.

Every pulse of his blood was awed triumph. _She's allowing me,_ was his thought, barely words at all. _She's allowing me to love her._ No rejection, no turning away. No scorn.

If he was dreaming, he wanted to sleep forever.

Time lost itself for a while as they held each other; Severus never noticed when his knees began to ache. There was only Lily, her warmth, her kisses, the pure joy of touching her and of _being_ touched. He felt as though he had been on the brink of starvation all his life, and now was being fed; it was intoxicating.

The high rattling tinkle of a bell startled them both, and Lily stiffened, head lifting. "Oh—Mum has supper ready."

Severus was familiar with the sound—Mrs. Evans used the bell to summon her family for meals rather than shout or climb stairs—but it took him a second to think beyond the circle of Lily's arms. "I—" _should go,_ he started to say, but the words stuck in his throat.

Lily pressed one last kiss to his nose and shifted back, scrambling to her feet. "We both need to wash our hands, you know how she is." She held out a hand, grinning and charmingly dishevelled, and Severus took it and let her pull him up, relieved at her assumption that he would stay.

Lily banished the muffling spell with a flick of her wand and unlocked the door, then leaned out of it towards the stairs. "Coming, Mum!" she called, then waved at Severus. "Come on."

The little bathroom off the hall was just a couple of yards away. The bright light made Severus flinch a little, and Lily giggled at the sight of them both in the mirror, hair ruffled and faces showing the effect of prolonged snogging. "It's a good thing you haven't any scruff, or I'd be a right mess." Her palm caressed his smooth cheek, and Severus couldn't help smiling back.

A few moments with a comb, some cold water, and a whispered anti-inflammatory charm made them look innocent again. Severus understood Lily's desire to keep things a secret; her parents had always been kind to him, but he wasn't at all sure if they would approve of him being more than just Lily's friend. But before he could start to worry, she'd caught his hand and was tugging him towards the stairs.

As a child, before Hogwarts, Severus had been welcomed at the Evans table many times, though Petunia had never quite approved of his presence. He hadn't seen much of Lily's parents in recent years, but they greeted him with no surprise and apparent pleasure, and he let himself relax into the familiarity, the sense of welcome. It helped that Petunia was not there.

It always astonished him, how different Lily's family was from his own. They never screamed insults at one another, or threw things; the house was not luxurious, nor the food expensive, but there was plenty of it and no one drank too much, at the table or elsewhere. Lily's parents—older than his by at least a decade—were placid and ordinary, asking him general questions about school and his future plans before falling into reminiscences about Christmases past. Across the table, Lily ate and chattered, smiling at him over the serving dishes, and while he didn't feel like one of them Severus didn't feel isolated either.

_Perhaps this is how a guest is supposed to feel._

It was a good sensation, buoyed by the secret sparkling in Lily's eyes, and Severus relaxed into it, conscious for a time of being at peace.


	6. Chapter 6

Everything had changed, and it was _wonderful._

Lily had a difficult time keeping her joy to herself during supper. It was all so _new_ , she wasn't ready to explain it to her parents just yet, and anyway between Christmas and her father's winter cold it wasn't the time. So they just enjoyed her mother's cooking and talked, and Lily took a secret delight in the soft, dazed happiness that was lurking behind Sev's usual staid expression.

_I've made him happy._

It was almost frightening, to have such power over someone. She knew enough about Sev's life to be aware that happiness was a rare thing for him. To be able to give it with a word, a touch—that was a responsibility she hadn't anticipated.

_But it's mine and I'll not give it up._

After dinner she and Sev handled the clearing up, he taking care of the leftovers while she started the dishes—by hand, her mother didn't approve of scrubbing spells. Then he dried the dishes for her, knowing after all the years where they went in the cupboards, and casting a quick drying spell on the tea-towel halfway through.

"Where _are_ you staying?" she asked as she drained the sink and rinsed her hands.

Sev shook out the towel. "Hogwarts. I couldn't face the Malfoy parties this year."

Lily wrinkled her nose. "I don't blame you." Sev would have been missed at supper at school, but he was an adult now and didn't have to report for meals on holidays. She glanced at the kitchen clock. "When do you have to be back?"

"Eleven. Lily—" His hand touched her arm hesitantly. "Will you come back with me? Until curfew?"

The uncertainty in his face made her ache a little, but she smiled and lifted the towel neatly from his grip. "Try and keep me away."

His return smile was shy and breathtaking.

Her father had already gone back to bed to nurse his cold, and Mrs. Evans loaded Sev up with biscuits and cake when Lily told her where they were going. "Just wake me when you get back, love," she said, kissing her daughter's cheek.

"Thanks, Mum." Lily gave her a squeeze, grateful that her parents trusted her, and grabbed her school cloak.

"Thank you for supper," Sev added, looking just the slightest bit ridiculous with a shopping bag full of treats dangling from one hand.

"Do come back again soon," Mrs. Evans told him, beaming. "We've not seen enough of you lately."

His ears turned red, which Lily thought was adorable, and she herded him out of the house.

The early winter night had already arrived, though faint light reflected from the clouds. Their breath formed fog in the air, and as Lily headed towards the river, Sev put a hand on her arm again. "I…I'd like to stop first."

The way his face had closed down told Lily where he wanted to go, and she put her arm through his. "Of course."

The house Sev had grown up in wasn't that far away, but the tenor of the neighbourhood changed as they walked. Lily had no fears about being abroad on the littered streets; even if she weren't an armed and experienced witch, she had Sev beside her, and he was not only deadly fast but knew more hexes than any three students. But, as earlier, there was hardly anyone about, and the few people they passed ignored them, bent on their own errands and huddled against the cold.

When they reached his parents' home, Sev pulled away, his expression even more blank. Lily said nothing as he walked to the front door and opened it with an old-fashioned key, merely pulling her cloak close around her as he vanished inside.

She'd been in his house once, when they were children, and remembered it still as shabby and reeking of cigarette smoke and dirty socks. His father had been sprawled on a battered couch, watching snooker on the television, and while he'd said nothing as Sev had led her to his dingy little bedroom, his scowl had imprinted itself in her memory. They'd picked up the book Sev had wanted and left, but the next day he'd had a black eye and a mutinous look, and he had never allowed her into the house again. And Lily had not asked to enter.

Now she waited patiently, wondering sadly whether either of his parents would be at all glad to see him this Christmas night. Lily knew his mother well enough to greet her in the shops, but Mrs. Snape was a bitter woman who had never seemed to approve of Sev's friendship with Lily, and Lily treated her with wary politeness.

She only had to cast a warming charm once. Sev came back out after about ten minutes, locking the door behind him. Despite the lack of light, Lily could see that his jaw was clenched, the muscles rigid.

She didn't give him the chance to retreat into whatever emotional purgatory these visits produced. As he drew abreast of her, she caught his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together once more and gripping firmly. She counted it a victory when he didn't pull away.

They were almost to the river before she heard him blow out a breath. "Thank you," he muttered.

"For what?"

"Never asking." Sev stopped, and perforce Lily halted too, and he put his other hand on her shoulder and leaned hesitantly in—not for a kiss, but to rest his forehead against hers.

She pulled him closer, feeling his nose brush her cheek and his breath warm her skin. This, too, was new; his height had him bending his neck to reach her, but he didn't seem to mind. Lily let go his hand so she could stroke his hair away from his face. "Come on," she whispered.

This time he did the Side-Along, and they appeared perfectly steady outside of Hogwarts' gates, still embracing. Lily rolled her eyes. "Show-off."

Sev chuckled, and she hugged him, brief and fierce. "Let's go. I want hot chocolate and a warm fire."

They ended up in his room in the Slytherin dungeons; the only other students staying through the holiday were both Hufflepuffs, and while Lily was under no illusion that their entrance to the castle had gone unnoticed, their privacy was assured.

His room was surprisingly cosy for a dungeon, and Lily plumped down on the worn divan before his hearth, drawing Sev down beside her. "Hot chocolate," she repeated firmly, and he huffed a breath of amusement.

The house-elf brought hot chocolate, biscuits, tiny mince pies, and the smell of butterbeer, and the sprig of holly behind its ear and the wide grin on its face told them that Christmas celebrations weren't limited to the castle's human population. Lily wasn't hungry so soon after supper, but the hot chocolate warmed her from the inside and the fire Sev started worked on the outside.

It felt good to snuggle into him, to feel his arm wrap tentatively around her shoulders, to smile as his fingers slid gradually up to tangle in her hair. Sev took a while to really relax, but the slow easing of his thigh where it pressed against hers was as good a sign of his trust as any of his kisses. They watched the fire for a while, absorbing chocolate and peace, and it was quite some time before Sev spoke. "I'm still not convinced this is real."

Lily set her mug aside and reached for his free hand, bringing it to her cheek much as he had done earlier, then kissing his thumb lightly. "Does that convince you?"

His fingers tightened, and he leaned over to press his face against her hair. "No. It only makes me want to dream more."

She laughed a little, conscious of a new current stirring between them. "I never even said thank you for the perfume," she said, lifting her wrist to her nose. "It's absolutely amazing, Sev—it smells incredible."

"It smells like you," he said softly. "I wanted it to smell like you."

He took her hand before she could dispute the compliment, raising it to his face so that the breath of his words passed across her skin. "It had to be perfect."

Shivers ran over her. His intensity should have frightened her, Lily thought distantly, but it did not. She didn't fear Sev; she couldn't.

She felt his nose brush over her palm, and then his mouth settled there in a caress that shot sparks down to her toes. Lily gasped, and squirmed around to catch his lips with hers.

It was different this time; not just the rich joy of before but also a heated, surprising pleasure. A soft noise rose in her throat, but it was lost beneath the fiery delight of Sev's kiss.

He seemed as startled as she, quivering for a moment before pressing her against the back of the divan. His lips coaxed hers apart, and he tasted so _good_ that the sound escaped her, a moan she almost didn't recognise as her own.

The only important thing was to touch him and kiss him, as much of both as possible. Lily filled her hands with his hair, found the curve where his neck met his shoulder, kept her mouth fastened to his as if parting meant disaster. Sev's arms were so tight around her that she could scarcely breathe, his fists knotted in her jumper, and all she wanted was to be closer still.

Time blurred in the haze of pleasure. Lily found herself on her back on the divan, Sev leaning over her, a tiny growl emerging every time he kissed her afresh. She skimmed her hands under his loosened shirt, feeling his skin hot and soft against her fingertips, faint ridges catching here and there. His weight on her made her feel oddly secure, further proof that all this _was_ real, and Lily squirmed, settling him more comfortably.

He gasped, and his fingers in her hair tilted her head back a fraction so that he could move his attentions to her throat. It was her turn to gasp at the sensation; it was as if someone had doused them both in _aqua flamma_ and touched it off, and she realised that judging from where Sev was pressed against her she wasn't the only one—

He froze, said something very bad against her clavicle, and let her go, pushing up and out of her grasp before she could tighten it. Lily blinked up at him, dazed. "What's the matter?" she managed.

He looked delicious, hair rumpled and cheeks flushed, but his expression was distressed and his fists clenched where they rested on his thighs. "We—we need to slow down."

Sense returned to her in a rush, and Lily felt her own cheeks heat. "Oh—oh. I…you're right." She pushed herself up on her elbows, embarrassed, but humour was already asserting itself. "Aren't I the one who's supposed to say that?"

Sev gave her a half-hearted glare. "Well, you weren't, were you?"

Lily sat up all the way, carefully not touching Sev where he knelt on the other end of the divan. Her body, now that it knew what it had been missing, was screaming at her to get back to business, and she'd heard that it was much worse for young males. She ignored it studiously and tried to smooth her own hair. "Sorry."

He let out a breath, obviously torn between upset and the funny side of it, and Lily gave him a grin and held out a hand, palm out. "Are you sure you're a Slytherin?"

That made him snort, and he touched her hand, meshing fingers for a quick squeeze before pulling back. "You're a bad influence." He still looked abashed, and Lily shook her head at him.

" _You're_ a gentleman, and you're right. We were moving awfully fast." The redness of Sev's face was not abating, and she leaned forward and caught his hand again. "I don't know exactly what you're thinking, Sev, but don't you dare think I'm not reluctant to stop too."

He flushed even darker, which was a strange look with his pale skin, and managed a huff of a laugh. "I know. I can…smell you." When she stiffened, he gestured at her wrist. "The perfume…it changes to reflect your, er, mood."

Astonished, Lily looked down at her arm even though there was nothing to see, then back up at him. "That's…"

"Genius?" he asked, lifting a brow, and Lily rolled her eyes.

"Unfair advantage! I'm going to have to demand some kind of equaliser."

The other brow went up, and he waved his hand over his torso. "You already have it."

That made her splutter a giggle, and they stared at each other, locked in a moment of embarrassed longing. His eyes were so wide and dark, and Lily knew that if they kept on like this she was either going to kiss him again or reach out and touch that evidence, and neither was a good idea just then.

With an effort, she looked away and stood up. "I'm going to go hide in the loo for a few minutes," she said firmly. "You had better be here when I get back, understand me?"

That won her a genuine laugh, though she carefully didn't look at him. "Promise," Sev said, and Lily smirked and retreated.

The Slytherin girls' bath was almost as sybaritic as rumour had whispered, and Lily splashed her face with cold water that spouted from gilded snake mouths and made faces at the oversized, scale-embossed baths. She combed her hair, straightened her sweater, and tried to calm her body and her mind. Sev had the right of it, and her mind at least was grateful that he'd stopped them. "Honestly, Evans," she told her reflection. "You only just figured this out today. Find some patience."

Her reflection stuck out its tongue at her but made no other comment. Lily turned her back on it and tried to assimilate things.

Sev touching her, kissing her, was nothing like James, which in a strange way was a relief. And Sev's attitude held a reverence that James had never possessed; she wasn't sure if it was due to Sev's history or their friendship, but it reassured her much more than the slightly hunted sensation of having James' attention.

Yes, it had only been a few hours, but being with Sev felt _right_. Like the natural progression of things, like the capstone to their friendship. Gryffindors were known for leaping before they looked, but in Lily's opinion the trait persisted because they were so often proved correct.

_And now that I look back, it's all so obvious. I was a fool not to see it before._

It wasn't just her inability to explain that had kept her from telling Sev about James. It was the fact that some part of her had known she was doing the wrong thing—not because of how Sev felt about her, but because of how _she_ felt about _him_.

Lily leaned back against the sink and closed her eyes, remembering the way he'd looked up at her when he'd applied the perfume, the sheer _longing_ , and it made her shiver. A fierce yearning rose in her to protect him, to heal the loneliness and hurt that he carried.

To have him look at her with confidence, without a shadow of doubt or uncertainty.

_I know how. Oh, I do know._

It would take time, like a complicated potion; but they had time. And for this, she would find patience.

Lily lifted her wrist to her nose once more. The scent had changed again, though she couldn't say how, and she let the corner of her mouth curl up. _Either he shall to have to make some for himself, or I will make him tell me how he did it. Genius, indeed._

But the gift, the thought and work behind it, the sheer _caring_ , made her smile soft. Lily sighed, opened her eyes, and told her libido it had to go back in the box for the evening. And set out for Sev's room.


	7. Chapter 7

Severus lay back on the divan and wondered distantly why it wasn't possible to die of embarrassment. _At least I would have died happy._

But Lily's leavening humour had saved him from lethality, at least. That, and the knowledge that she was both aroused and abashed as well.

 _She didn't want to stop._ That pushed his other concerns aside in greedy awe. She didn't just want him, she wanted to _continue._ The thought was almost too much to take in.

 _This isn't helping._ Groaning, Severus pushed to his feet and paced, trying to tame himself. Lily wasn't disgusted with his out-of-control body, but he was about to be. The natural urges that came on him from time to time were as nothing compared to the fire that flared in him now; her unconscious proximity was a meagre spark next to her willing caresses and the permission to touch as he wished.

 _No. I will have control._ Gritting his teeth, Severus forced his thoughts elsewhere, finally opening a window and leaning out to breathe the frigid air. It helped, dispelling the drowsy warmth of the room and the lingering fragrance of Lily.

He let a tendril of amusement rise. _I never anticipated that particular effect._ It certainly wasn't something he'd tried in her body, but the magic he'd woven into the perfume followed her shifts of emotion and physical state. And he had to admit that, as delicious as Lily smelled under ordinary circumstances, aroused she was _intoxicating_.

_But then, I suspect it would be so even without the perfume._

By the time Lily returned, tidy and composed, Severus was calmer, and had resumed his seat on the divan with a fresh mug of hot chocolate. Lily, never slow, sat at the other end, curling her legs under her and pouring her own drink. For a long moment they couldn't quite look at each other, but then Lily arched her brows and spoke drily. " _That_ was fun."

That did it; they were both laughing, the tension not banished but reduced to a low simmer. Severus leaned forward and picked up the plate of biscuits, extending it in Lily's direction, and she took one with an exaggerated nod of thanks. "So," she said, nibbling delicately, "what's your timetable for next term?"

Safer topics worked; they relaxed into their usual discussion, tossing ideas back and forth. Gradually Lily uncurled, and Severus swung his legs up onto the divan, but somehow their feet meeting in the middle didn't produce the same fever pitch of desire; it was just a pleasurable, comfortable touch that felt like a promise for later. He had to keep a close rein on both his thoughts and his gaze, but it was hardly the first time such had been necessary.

At ten-thirty, Severus' wand vibrated in the reminder he'd set, and Lily sighed. "Already?"

"I'll need time to walk back," Severus said, silently echoing her sigh.

"Actually, we could have another fifteen minutes and you could just walk me to the gates," Lily said hopefully, but Severus gave her a stern look.

"I am seeing you home properly. Don't argue, Lily." It was one of the few social graces he'd picked up from his mother, that a gentleman never let a lady walk home alone, and he'd stuck to it all these years.

Lily pouted at him to make him smirk, then sighed again and stood. "My mother would thank you for it."

Severus rose and fetched their cloaks, setting aside the worry of what Mrs. Evans would say when she found out about the change in their relationship. "There you are, then."

He ignored her sniff and took great pleasure in draping her cloak around her shoulders, gently pulling her hair from under the collar and letting it sift through his fingers as he released it. Lily hummed happily, then spun and slid her arms around his neck, leaning in just short of a hug. Severus' hands found her waist without his conscious volition, and he couldn't take her eyes from her smile and its unaccustomed shyness. "What is it?"

"Never let it be said that a Gryffindor is less brave than a Slytherin," she said, so softly that he bent his head closer to hear her. "I love you, Sev."

Her words were a bolt of white lightning shooting up his spine, the impossible suddenly made truth. His hands tightened, and instead of breathing he held her gaze. "Say it again?" he managed, voice cracking.

Her head lifted, her smile widened. "I love you."

His chest _hurt_ , like something was breaking free in there. Severus lifted one trembling hand to touch Lily's face, to stroke her cheek. He wanted to fall down at her feet and kiss them in utter worship, but he settled for her lips instead, the softest, slowest touch he could manage.

This time it was her tears that cooled his skin, and he returned her favour, kissing them gently away. "Lily," he whispered. "Lily, you are everything."

She laughed shakily, and kissed him again.

* * *

The walk to Hogwarts' gates was silent but for their footsteps, a hushed accord that Severus had never experienced. Lily's arm was linked through his, and it was strange, almost frightening, to feel the lack of the hopeless yearning that had always been his portion. He still longed for her body, but now he had her _heart_ , and it was a gift so profound that Severus felt as though wordless joy was spilling out of him, his soul too small to contain it.

Apparating back to her home took too little time, and all too soon Lily was unlocking the front door. An icy rain had begun to mist down, making lingering uncomfortable, but she turned nonetheless and embraced him. "See you tomorrow?" she murmured against his cheek.

Severus held her close, knowing this last hug would have to sustain him all night. "I'd sleep on your doorstep if I could."

Lily snickered. "Too uncomfortable—I'd have to bring you inside, and then we'd be in trouble again." Her lips met his, warm and sweet with just a hint of fire. "Tomorrow, then, and don't linger over breakfast."

He nodded and stole one more kiss. "Wear the perfume," he whispered in her ear, and made his arms release her.

Lily's smile was pure bewitchment as she slipped past the door.

Severus didn't quite grin as he headed back towards the Apparition point by the river, but he felt like it. As he strode down the street, a car pulled up not far away, and a tall slender figure unfolded itself from the car, bending down for a farewell through the window before the vehicle departed. Severus was amused to recognise Petunia, home at last from whatever engagement had occupied her Christmas.

As he neared, he saw Petunia's nose wrinkle and her chin rise. The unaccustomed joy was effervescent in his blood, and on impulse Severus swept her a bow as he passed. Her startled sniff made him let the grin out, and he picked up his pace. The sooner he was back in his room, the sooner he could dream of Lily.

And this time, the dreams would be true.

End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, Cincoflex and Trialia kept me sane, in-character, and as British as I'm ever going to get.
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing! I do have a sequel in the works, but in the meantime if you are so moved I've written another Lily/Severus fic, Through Grace, which is also AU-in an entirely different fashion. It is available at my account on this site.


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